


Hunter's Moon

by Shadowblade217



Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblade217/pseuds/Shadowblade217
Summary: The Tenth Doctor becomes involved in a scientific expedition to a mysterious pyramid on an island near Antarctica. Upon entering the ancient structure, however, the expedition discovers that the pyramid is occupied by not one, but two deadly alien races.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Voyage of Discovery

_Beyond time and space…_

A machine that was not what it seemed moved through the Time Vortex; a large blue box, the size of a man, drifting through the space between dimensions. A light flashed atop the machine, signifying the complex systems that were at work helping it to move along its course.

To those who were familiar with it, this machine was known as the TARDIS ( _T_ ime _A_ nd _R_ elative _D_ imensions _I_ n _S_ pace). It was a living machine, containing an entire miniature dimension that allowed it to have infinite internal space. It had been designed as such by its creators, a race of ancient beings known as the Time Lords.

Within the machine, a man stood next to a circular control console, built around a translucent pipe that rose up to the distant ceiling. The machinery was active, whirring gently as it guided his vessel through the vortex.

This man, to everyone who was familiar with him, was known as the Doctor.

With a heavy sigh, the Doctor leaned against the console, rubbing his eyes and staring wearily down at the floor. It had been too long since he'd had another person to talk to, but after recent events, he simply couldn't handle another companion right now. After his recent battle with the Master, he'd shut down somewhat. The death of the only other surviving member of his species, and the departure of his latest companion, Martha Jones, had hit him hard. He'd become somewhat depressed, if such a thing was possible for him. His usual enthusiasm for the constant adventures that constituted his life had ebbed. His recent adventure on the _Titanic_ had helped to relieve his depression somewhat, but he was still feeling what a human would refer to as "down".

His head lifted suddenly, as a blue light began to flash on one of the screens and a beeping sound rang out.

"Hmm… what do we have here, then?" he murmured, turning to the screen in question and flipping several switches. "What've you got for me this time?"

Examining the display more closely, he realized that it was some sort of homing beacon; a powerful one, at that. The signal from this thing could be received across the galaxy, provided you had the right type of receiver. Given that the TARDIS basically possessed one of every type of receiver you could need, it was understandable that it could pick up a transmission that would have been undetectable to anyone else.

"Interesting," the Doctor said, flipping a few more switches and pressing various buttons on the console. To an observer who didn't know how to operate the TARDIS, it would have seemed as if he had no idea what he was doing. That was usually how he operated, to be honest.

A map of the Milky Way galaxy, with each star system represented as a tiny glowing dot, appeared on the screen where the signal had been received. A set of six numbers appeared in the upper right corner of the screen, the numbers changing rapidly as the instruments identified the date and time of the message. The image zoomed in, a set of crosshairs appearing on the screen and pinpointing a particular system; one he recognized instantly.

The Doctor sighed. "Of course."

A _ding_ sounded from the screen, and a summary of the results popped up on the screen. _Location: Earth. Date according to human calendar: 2004 A.D._

"Why is it always like this?" the Doctor asked out loud to no one in particular. "What is it about 21st century Earth that so many aliens like it?" When no one responded, he turned back to the screen, muttering, "Mysterious alien homing beacon of unknown origin? Well, _obviously_ I'm going to follow it." For the first time in quite a while, he grinned and started dashing around the console, flipping various levers to alter the ship's course. The room began to shudder as the TARDIS accelerated, tumbling through the Vortex towards the source of the signal.

The Doctor laughed in glee, continuing to dash around the console as he performed a dozen tasks at once. "Allons-y!"

* * *

As the TARDIS approached the origin of the signal, the Doctor consulted the instruments, bringing up an image of the beacon's origin point and its surroundings on one of the screens. The image was of a small island, rocky but almost entirely covered by massive ice sheets. According to the readings, the island was called Bouvetøya, and it was almost two thousand kilometers north of Antarctica.

"Well, whatever that beacon is, it's under the ice," the Doctor mused, tapping a hand on the console speculatively. "Now, I _could_ just teleport the TARDIS down to the source, but then I'd run the risk of materializing it inside the glacier, and that wouldn't end well. So…" he adjusted the instruments, looking for another method. His eyes fell on something interesting, and he leaned in. "Hello… what's this?"

Clearly visible on the screen, about four hundred miles from the beacon's source, was a large ship, steadily making its way towards the island. Clearly, whoever was on that ship was intending to make landfall there.

"Well, all right, then," the Doctor said to himself with a smile. "Simple. Just land on that ship, and go in with them. Perfectly acceptable."

Altering his approach slightly, the Doctor grinned and flipped a lever, engaging the ship's teleportation mechanisms.

With its usual cacophony of whirring, wheezing sounds, the TARDIS finally landed with a resounding thud and a jolt that caused the Doctor to stagger, bracing himself against the console.

Running fingers through his hair, the Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper, and headed for the doors.

Opening the wooden doors cautiously, the Doctor looked outside, immediately flinching back from a gust of frigid air that blew into the TARDIS through the doorway.

"Well, that's unpleasant!" he exclaimed to himself. Crossing his arms to hold his coat more securely around himself, he ducked out through the doors and into the storm outside.

It was immediately apparent that he'd aimed correctly; he was undeniably on the ship. He'd landed the TARDIS inside the ship, fortunately, but a door was open nearby, and cold air was pouring in from the outside. Through a window, he could see the gray sea outside, waves churning and rocking the vessel.

Contemplating his surroundings, the Doctor made sure that the TARDIS doors were closed and locked, and then headed off down one of the corridors.

* * *

Alexa Woods walked into the hold of the research vessel _Piper Maru_ , glancing around at the other men and women gathered into the immense room. She'd been constantly on the move for the past three days, ever since a representative of billionaire Charles Weyland had plucked her off of Mount Everest and recruited her to join this mission.

She still had no idea why she'd been contacted, however.

"Nice toys," Lex murmured under her breath as she inspected the hardware that had been provided for their expedition; ten tracked Hagglunds vehicles, as well as powerful earth-moving machinery and everything that might be needed for a prolonged expedition on the ice, including premade shelters, cold-weather gear, oxygen tanks, and portable electric generators.

Although Lex had been on countless expeditions like this one in her life, she'd never seen one that was this well-prepared.

Following her escort over to a makeshift briefing area in one corner of the room, filled with rows of folding chairs, Lex exchanged glances with Graeme Miller, a chemical engineer who'd been on the helicopter with her.

"That's some pretty fancy gear over there," she commented, indicating a pair of huge drilling rigs in the center of the room, each the size of an eighteen-wheeler.

"Wonder what it does?" Miller asked.

Before Lex could tell him, someone else commented.

"Well," a voice with an accent that Lex initially couldn't place said, "that right there is a sophisticated thermal exchanger. So my guess would be some kind of drilling device based on heat."

Lex and Miller turned, seeing a man who looked to be in his early thirties standing behind them. He smiled. "I'm sorry, that was somewhat rude of me." He shook Lex's hand, then Miller's. "Dr. Sebastian de Rosa, at your service."

Miller smiled back. "Don't tell me… physicist?"

"Archaeologist, actually," Sebastian explained. "My colleague Thomas and I have an interest in anything that digs or tunnels."

"The mystery deepens," Miller observed, grinning nervously. "We have a chemical engineer, an archaeologist, and an environmentalist. I even met an Egyptologist over there. So what are we all doing on the same boat?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "I presume one of us is the murderer. That _is_ the tradition, isn't it?"

Lex grinned, amused. Looking around the room again, she spotted one man who didn't seem to belong there; a tall man with tousled brown hair, wearing a brown pinstripe suit and a long brown overcoat. Rather than looking tired or confused, he seemed fascinated by his surroundings, looking around rapidly as if he was trying to take in everything at once. His curiosity was oddly endearing, and Lex chuckled softly as she saw him turn completely in a circle, looking up the entire time, and trip over his own feet, stumbling and nearly falling.

A yell of "Keep your hands off the hardware or you'll be wearing your own ass for a hat!" drew her attention to Miller, who had apparently clambered into one of the drilling rigs to examine it and was now being scolded by one of the operators, a large, muscular man with a long scar running down his cheek. Miller scrambled out of the cab and down to the floor as Lex approached the rig.

"Nice team spirit," she commented coolly.

The man, who she noticed was wearing battle fatigues, glanced at her, then over to Maxwell Stafford, the person who'd organized the mission.

"Keep the Beakers away from the gear," he muttered, walking away. "Just keep the goddamn Beakers away from my gear!"

That drew several catcalls and some derisive laughter from his men as they followed him.

"What's a Beaker?" Miller asked curiously.

Lex sighed. "It's what they call scientists out here. You know, Beaker? Like in _The Muppet Show_?"

Miller nodded. "Ah, got it. Beaker. I kinda like that."

"The briefing will start in five minutes," Max Stafford called. "Please take your seats."

The men and women in the hold seated themselves in the folding chairs, grouping themselves according to profession. Lex found herself seated between Miller and the young man in the brown coat, who was looking around with interest.

Max Stafford, a well-dressed African-American man, stepped up to the podium in front of the rows of seats.

"May I have your attention, please, everyone?" he said into the microphone, immediately drawing the focus of all the personnel in the hold.

Stafford nodded, paused for a moment, and then continued. "My name is Maxwell Stafford, and I've been authorized by Mr. Charles Weyland to lead this team…"

Stafford paused in surprise as another man approached the podium.

"Mr. Weyland," he said in surprise.

"Thank you, Max. I'll take it from here." With that, Max Stafford stepped back, and Weyland took his place.

Charles Bishop Weyland was in his early sixties, but was still in reasonably good shape. His hair was gray and his face was lean and deeply lined, but his eyes were bright and gleamed with a calculating intelligence.

Stepping up to the podium, Weyland adjusted the microphone slightly and then spoke into it. "Hopefully you've all had a chance to freshen up or get a little sleep. If you haven't, I apologize. I know that some of you have only just arrived, and that all of you have traveled a very long way to be here, at very short notice. Let me assure you, however; your journey has not been in vain."

Weyland gestured to the large bulkhead behind him, which flared with as a projector activated.

"Seven days ago," Weyland continued, "one of my satellites over Antarctica was hunting for mineral deposits, when a sudden heat bloom beneath the earth outlined this." He pointed to the image, which changed to a red-and-yellow infrared map. Most of the screen was illuminated in pale yellow and orange, but in the middle of the screen, a large series of interlocking square shapes gleamed bright red.

"This is a thermal image," Weyland explained. "The red lines indicate solid walls; the orange, solid rock. My experts tell me it's a pyramid; what they can't agree on is who built it and when."

Sebastian de Rosa leaned forward, his gaze locked intently on the images as he analyzed the shape. It _did_ look like a pyramid, seen from above.

"What caused the heat bloom?" his assistant Thomas asked.

"We don't know," Weyland replied. "But one expert has told me that this feature is reminiscent of the Aztecs." The image behind him shifted slightly, the angle changing. "Another says that it's probably Cambodian." The image shifted again. "But everyone agrees that the smooth sides are definitely Egyptian."

Sebastian and Thomas nodded in agreement.

"Why would anyone build a pyramid out here?" Miller wondered.

"Ancient maps show Antarctica free of ice," Thomas said. "It's likely that the continent was once habitable."

The young man seated beside Lex muttered something to himself. For a moment, she swore she'd heard him say, "Not as long as _humans_ have been around, anyway…"

Lex glanced over at him. "Did you say something?"

Startled, the young man looked back at her. "Hmm? Oh, no, no. Nothing."

Shrugging, Lex turned back, to see that Sebastian had stood up and was approaching the image. Weyland glanced over to him. "Dr. De Rosa?"

"I think your experts are right," Sebastian said, examining the pictures of the pyramid more closely.

"Which one?"

Sebastian smiled. "All of them." He turned to face the rest of the room. "The Egyptians, Cambodians and Aztecs all built pyramids. Three separate cultures, that lived thousands of miles apart…"

"With no communication between them," Thomas added.

"Actually…" the man next to Lex murmured under his breath.

"What?" Lex asked, turning to face him again.

He looked up at her and blinked. "Sorry, just talking to myself. It's nothing."

"Yet what they built was almost identical," Sebastian continued, clearly on a roll now. "This is clearly a temple complex. A series of pyramids, probably, and here is the central road connecting them."

A ripple of excitement ran through the scientists in the room. Weyland stayed quiet for a moment, watching them closely.

Ignoring the commotion, Sebastian remained focused on the projection. "Almost identical," he said softly.

"Meaning what?" Lex asked, speaking up.

Sebastian turned to face her. "This might be the first pyramid ever built."

"Built by whom?" Miller put in.

Sebastian grinned, excitement flaring in his eyes. "The master culture from which all others are derived."

Weyland frowned. "If it could be the first pyramid, it could also be the last, an amalgam of the ones that came before it. There's no proof of any connection between the cultures you cited."

"This photo is the proof," Sebastian insisted.

Miller decided to speak up. "I can't tell you who built it, but if I could get a sample from it, I could tell you how old it is."

"Within how many years, Professor?" Max Stafford asked.

"Actually, it's Doctor," Miller answered. "And I'll give you the exact year; I'm that good."

Weyland smiled. "Well, Dr. Miller, I'm offering to put you right next to the thing."

"Where exactly on the ice is it?" Lex asked, perplexed.

"A small island about four hundred miles east of here," a man's voice called out. The tones were accented, British by the sound of it.

Lex turned, to see that the man who was sitting next to her was the one who'd spoken up. "I can tell by the satellite image," he continued, "and I've got our current coordinates on a, uh, GPS unit I brought with me. Wasn't too hard to figure out, really."

Lex stared at him for a moment in surprise, but her eyes widened when she realized the importance of his words. "Wait…" She turned to face Weyland. "So, that means it's on…"

"Bouvetøya Island," Weyland confirmed. "Only, it's not on the ice. It's two thousand feet under it. The pyramid is located directly beneath an old whaling station, which we'll use as our base camp." He pointed to the other side of the room from Lex. "Mr. Quinn?"

The man rose, causing Lex to frown when she saw his face.

 _Oh, great,_ she thought sourly.

"Mr. Stafford, Mr. Weyland," Quinn said, "you're looking at the best drilling team in the world. We'll chew to that depth in seven days."

"Add three weeks on top of that to train everyone here," Lex interrupted.

Weyland looked over at her and shook his head. "We don't have that kind of time. I'm not the only one with a satellite over Antarctica. Others will be here soon, if they aren't already."

Lex stared at him in surprise. "Maybe I wasn't clear," she said. "No one in this hold is ready for this trip."

Weyland smiled. "That's why I invited you here, Ms. Woods. You're our expert on snow and ice."

Lex's eyes flashed with anger. "Bouvetøya is one of the most isolated places in the world. The nearest land is a thousand miles away; there's no help for us if we run into trouble."

Weyland nodded. "You're right; it is a no-man's-land. But…" he glanced around. "The train has left the station. I think I speak for everyone aboard this ship when I say… this is worth the risk."

Lex looked around, troubled by the sight of nothing but enthusiasm in the eyes of everyone present. The only other person in the room who seemed to share her misgivings was the young man in the brown coat. He met her gaze from the other side of the room, apprehension mingled with curiosity in his eyes.

Lex shook her head slowly, looking away as the projected image vanished and the lights reactivated.

"That concludes our briefing, gentlemen and ladies," Weyland called out. "Dinner will be in ninety minutes. I flew in one of my own chefs from my hotel in Paris; the filet mignon will be excellent." He locked eyes with Lex. "Will you be joining us?"

Lex hesitated, then shook her head and stood up, turning and walking out of the room.

"Find another guide," she called over her shoulder as she exited the hold, unaware of the curious pair of brown eyes that were watching her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, relative to the Doctor's timeline, this story takes place after the events of "Voyage of the Damned" and before the start of Series 4.
> 
> And for those of you who may be wondering: yes, I will be including the perspective of the Predators in this story, in addition to the Doctor and his human companions. Should be interesting; we'll see how it turns out!


	2. The Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The expedition heads towards its destination... but unbeknownst to them, they're not the only ones interested in the mysterious pyramid.

Two thousand miles above the surface of the Moon, just beyond its gravitational pull, an enormous vessel emerged from hyperspace, gliding soundlessly through the vacuum. A thin stream of charged ions emitted from the engine nacelles at the vessel's rear, propelling it along its course towards the blue-green planet ahead of it.

Aboard the ship, the onboard lighting illuminated the interior in a dim glow, red in some areas and green in others. The ship's internal structure was also strange, with elevated walkways running down the center of each hallway above channels of steaming, warm water, designed to help keep the ship's interior warm and humid. The design of the walls and ceiling incorporated enough curves, arches, and spiked projections to fulfill a gothic architect's wildest fantasy. To humans, the ship's interior would have seemed utterly bizarre, but it was perfectly sensible to the ship's inhabitants.

* * *

Seated in a chair on the bridge of the _Ne'dtesei_ , Nihkuo'te checked the ship's instruments, which were currently conducting scans to establish if anything was out of the ordinary. His eyes narrowed, and he ran a clawed hand over the console, zooming in on the source of the transmission they had followed: a large structure, buried deep beneath miles of ice, on a small island surrounded by a vast, cold ocean. This was the location of their Hunt to come. His first Hunt, in fact.

Ever since he was a child, Nihkuo'te – whose name, in the language of his people, meant "Strong Sword" – had been preparing for and dreaming about this day. This was the day when he would finally hunt the ultimate prey: the _kainde amedha_ , the Hard Meat, they of the black armored exoskeletons and acid blood. He would kill one of these creatures in combat, and he would Blood himself, etching a scar into his forehead with the acidic blood to mark his first kill as a warrior.

For thousands of years, this was how his people, the yautja, had proven themselves fit to become true adults.

While they were still on the way to this planet, the Leader of the _Ne'dtesei_ , the legendary warrior Vk'leita, had announced that only the best of the students would get their chance to face the Hard Meat on this Hunt, as the number of Hard Meat would be much lower than normal. Only three students, in fact, would be selected at the end of the voyage.

There had been no doubt in Nihkuo'te's mind that he would be one of the ones chosen. He was, without a doubt, the strongest, smartest and most skilled of the students currently aboard the ship. Of course, that didn't stop others from challenging him during the regular sparring matches between the students, but he had always emerged victorious.

His talons clicked against the metal thoughtfully, as his attention was drawn to a new signature on the chart that showed the island where the pyramid was housed; a large contact, moving steadily across the ocean towards the island. A few taps on the screen with the tips of his claws brought it into focus. Although its design was very different, and it was moving on water instead of air or the vacuum of space, it was unquestionably a ship.

Nihkuo'te's eyes widened in realization. Oomans must be aboard that ship. He had never seen a living one before, but they were said to be a paradoxical species; as intelligent as the yautja, with equal toolmaking skills, but considered to be _pyode amedha_ – "Soft Meat". Physically, they were no match for the yautja, but their intelligence and their deadly artificial weapons made them a formidable challenge. A true test of skill, if rumors were to be believed. That was why he had been somewhat disconcerted by the information that the Hunt was to take place on the oomans' homeworld; however, the explanation that the area was very remote, and that the oomans would never know of their presence, was enough to reassure him.

But now an ooman ship was approaching the source of their beacon, the island where they were to hunt the Hard Meat. Fortunately, the yautja had been planning on this. While they did not plan on fighting the oomans' warriors, these oomans would provide the Hard Meat with the hosts they needed to grow into their adult forms, so that the yautja could hunt the newly born drones.

Nihkuo'te clattered his mandibles and rose to his feet, his clawed feet finding purchase easily on the deck. He'd had his fill of gazing at images of their destination; the thoughts of what awaited him on this planet had stirred a fire in his blood. He craved action, and the time for them to Hunt had almost come.

Clicking to himself, he made his way down the hallway to the training room.

* * *

The _kehrite_ , a large open room where the yautja congregated to train and spar, was designed to be highly durable: the walls were lined with Hard Meat armor, which could withstand virtually any fire or acid.

The students, about two dozen in total, had gathered around the central ring. The Blooded warriors assigned to oversee the mission – four of them, plus Vk'leita himself – stood at intervals around the crowd, making sure no fights broke out.

Nihkuo'te joined the crowd just as the Leader, Vk'leita himself, emerged from another entrance and strode into the _kehrite_. A momentary hush fell over the students as they parted ranks respectfully, allowing him to walk through and take his place in the center of the large, elevated exercise mat.

The Leader was old by yautja standards: his scaly skin, which in most yautja was some shade of grayish-yellow or grayish-green, was now a pale gray in color, and his long hair, pleated into tresses like the rest of them, was dark gray, paling to white in places. His mandibles clicked softly together as he took his position, gazing out over the students with a fierce glare that showed he retained his warrior's spirit.

"It is time to prepare for the Hunt!" Vk'leita called out, his voice echoing through the room. "I have chosen the three students who will participate in this Trial. When I call your name, step forward."

The students waited, listening intently. Nihkuo'te tensed, waiting to hear his name.

"Ghardeh!"

The first chosen student, a powerfully-built yautja with longer hair than the others, strode forward, clambering up onto the mat and kneeling before the Leader. He and Nihkuo'te were actually fairly close friends, so Nihkuo'te was quite pleased to see him chosen. While Ghardeh was not the strongest or most skilled warrior, his determination and resolve was never in question. On a Hunt, he was the one you wanted watching your back.

"Gkyaun!"

This one Nihkuo'te had also expected. Gkyaun wasn't the strongest of the students, but he more than made up for it with his keen intelligence and fighting skill. When it came to planning strategies, there was no one better.

Lastly, the name he had been waiting for came.

"And… Nihkuo'te!"

Growling to himself in satisfaction at the chorus of hisses and cheers from the other students, Nihkuo'te vaulted straight up onto the elevated ring in a single effortless bound, taking his place beside the other students and dropping to one knee before Vk'leita.

"You leave us as students," Vk'leita rumbled, clapping a hand on each of the students' shoulders in turn as he walked past them. "But once this trial is complete, if you succeed, you shall return – as _warriors!_ " He threw back his head and roared, the sound echoed by the other Blooded warriors and the students.

Nihkuo'te glanced over, to see that Ghardeh was looking back at him. The other student grinned nervously, his mandibles flaring.

Nihkuo'te clattered in response, feeling the warrior's fire rise in his heart as his blazing yellow eyes narrowed. This was his day, and when this Hunt was done, he would be Blooded. Or else he would be dead.

Either way was the Path.

* * *

 _Aboard the_ Piper Maru _…_

Lex zipped up one of her bags, feeling the deep reverberations beneath. She was in the process of completing her preparations to leave the ship. While she was intrigued by Weyland's discovery, she had no intention of going on a suicide mission. And going onto Bouvetøya Island with a bunch of totally untrained and unprepared scientists and roughnecks was a recipe for disaster.

"I've spoken with Mr. Weyland," Maxwell Stafford announced as he appeared in the doorway. "The money's been wired to your foundation's account, and the chopper's refueling to fly you home." He nodded to her matter-of-factly, and then turned to leave.

"Who'd you get?" she called after him.

Max paused, turning to face her again. "Gerald Murdock," he replied, before turning and walking away.

* * *

Lex burst into Charles Weyland's office without bothering to knock. To his credit, Weyland's only reaction was a raised eyebrow. "Come in," he said dryly.

Lex was in no mood for pleasantries. "Gerry Murdock only has two seasons of ice time. He's not ready."

Weyland looked up at her. "Don't worry about it."

"What about Paul Woodman or Andrew Keeler?"

"We called them," he stated.

"And?"

"They gave the same bullshit answer you did," Max Stafford remarked as he entered the room, leafing through a file of thermal images of the pyramid.

" _Bullshit?_ " Lex glared at him incredulously, before turning back to Weyland. "Mr. Weyland, what I told you in there wasn't bullshit. If you rush this, people will get hurt. Maybe die."

Weyland sighed. "I don't understand your objections, Ms. Woods. We're not asking you to take us up Everest. We need you to take us from the ship to the pyramid and then back to the ship; that's it."

She folded her arms over her chest. "And what about inside the pyramid?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that," Weyland assured her. "Once we're on the site, we'll have the best equipment, technology and experts that money can buy." He glanced to Max, examining the images. "Is this new?"

Max nodded. "It's the latest."

"Mr. Weyland, when I lead a team, I don't ever leave my team," Lex replied flatly.

Weyland smiled faintly. "I admire your passion. I wish you were going with us."

Lex shook her head. "You're making a mistake," she warned him, before turning and walking out of the room.

* * *

As the _Piper Maru_ continued towards its destination, Lex stood on one of the upper decks, watching as a spectacular display of light and color lit up the skies overhead; the Southern Lights, Antarctica's aurora, was playing across the heavens.

Three sets of footsteps drew her attention away from the stars, and she glanced over to see Miller, Sebastian de Rosa, and the strange man in the brown trenchcoat walking over to where she stood.

Miller grinned, waving at the sky. "It's in the upper atmosphere," he explained. "Streams of protons and electrons from the Sun, being deflected by the Earth's magnetic field, causing a solar radiation storm."

"Yep," the brown-haired man put in with a childlike grin, leaning on the railing with both arms as he gazed up in wonder. "It's like the whole sky is singing." He smiled. "Never get tired of seeing that."

Lex smiled in amusement. "Shackleton called Antarctica 'the last great journey left to man'," she murmured. "It's the one place left in the world that no one owns. It's completely free."

"Well, yeah, for now," the brown-haired man replied soberly, "but just wait a few years. People can't help themselves. Some people, like Weyland, look at this place –" He waved his hand in an arc. "– and they don't see the beauty, don't marvel at the spectacle. No, all they see are dollar signs and how much they can get from exploiting places like this." He sighed. "Really is a shame. I mean, look at this place: there's nowhere else like it. The Earth's last great wilderness."

"Yeah," Lex agreed. She seemed lost in reverie for a moment, before smiling. "Me? I'm partial to the penguins." This drew a chuckle from Miller and Sebastian.

"I really wish you'd reconsider comin' with us, Lex," Miller remarked. He grinned. "Come on, don't make me pull out pictures of my kids again!"

Lex laughed. "Your kids aren't that cute."

"What if we got pictures of other people's kids?" Sebastian joked.

Lex smiled for a moment, then turned serious. "You want my advice? Stay on the boat."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Let me ask you something. Do we stand a better chance of surviving with you? Or with the number-two choice?"

That got a visible reaction from Lex, and it was clear she was thinking that over.

Miller turned to the man in the brown coat. "So what brings you on our cheery little expedition?" he inquired. "Archaeologist? Engineer? Oh, and I don't think I ever got your name."

The man considered. "Hmmm… I'd say I'm a bit of everything, really." He smiled, pushing off the railing and standing up straight again, clapping his hands. "And, ah, for my name… it's John Smith."

Lex chuckled. "John Smith? Really?"

The man – John Smith – seemed surprised. "What? What's wrong with John Smith?"

She shrugged. "Nothing, I guess."

The door beside them opened, and a blonde woman emerged. "Ms. Woods?" she called. "The helicopter's refueled. They're ready for you."

Lex glanced back and forth, contemplating her options.

* * *

_Outer space…_

As the _Ne'dtesei_ approached Earth's atmosphere, a protrusion on the front of the ship, shaped almost like a cone, began to glow a bright blue. A moment later, as the ship reached a precise angle relative to the ground, a beam of brilliant blue energy lanced out of the front of the ship and streaked down into the atmosphere, piercing straight through the clouds and out of sight. It cut off after a moment, leaving no outward indication that it had ever been there.

Aboard the ship, Nihkuo'te and the other two chosen students stood in a dimly lit chamber, gazing at a holographic image of their destination. As they watched, the beam from the ship's cannon entered the field of view from the upper left of the camera, spearing down into the ground at a predetermined location and instantly boring through the ice as if it didn't exist. The beam kept going, carving through the ice and turning it instantly to steam, giving it no opportunity to refreeze and block the passageway, carving out a perfectly straight, smooth tunnel that stretched from the surface all the way down to the immense cave that housed the Hunting ground. Just as it reached the required depth, the beam flickered off.

All three students snarled and hissed in anticipation, Nihkuo'te among them. He grinned, mandibles flared wide as he felt the bloodlust smoldering in his heart.

The first step had been taken. The Hunt was almost upon them.

* * *

 _Aboard the_ Piper Maru _…_

"Everybody listen up!" Lex called out, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous cargo hold of the ship. "Gather round!"

As the expedition team, consisting of almost two dozen people, all gathered around her, Miller leaned in conspiratorially to Sebastian and the Doctor. "I knew she'd stay," he confided with a grin. "She can't resist my animal magnetism."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless.

"Laugh it up, Miller," muttered Verheiden, a tall, blonde man with a pronounced scar on his left cheek. "Laugh it up."

"Gentlemen," Lex silenced them, drawing all eyes to her. She paused briefly, before beginning. "It is my job to keep you all alive on this expedition," she announced loudly. "And I need your help to do that. Since I don't have time to properly train you, I'm laying down three simple rules. One, no one goes anywhere alone. Ever. Two, everyone must maintain constant communication. Three, unexpected things are gonna happen. When they do, no one tries to be a hero." She looked around, meeting the eyes of everyone in the group. "Understood?"

Most people nodded, but Verheiden took a moment longer to respond. "Yes, ma'am," he finally replied.

Lex smiled sweetly. "Good."

* * *

The ship had come to rest in a frozen-over bay near the shore of Bouvetøya Island, about a mile from their destination. A frigid wind howled over its decks.

As the group prepared to disembark and head ashore, Lex noticed the blonde woman from earlier loading bullets into a pistol. Intrigued, she wandered over. "Seven seasons on the ice and I've never seen a gun save someone's life," she remarked.

"You know, I've got to agree with you," a voice put in. Lex glanced over, to see John Smith approaching them, a half-eaten pastry from the buffet that had been laid out for dinner held in one hand. "I've never liked guns, personally. Way too inelegant."

The woman looked over at him. "I don't plan on using it," she replied.

Lex frowned. "Then why bring it?"

"Same principle as a condom," the woman replied matter-of-factly. "I'd rather have one and not need it, than need one and not have it." She rose to her feet, holstering the gun, and extended a hand. "Adele Rousseau."

Lex smiled, taking her hand. "Alexa Woods. Call me Lex."

"John Smith," the man put in, shaking Rousseau's hand with a grin.

Rousseau grinned, looking him over. "You're going to need more winter gear than that," she pointed out.

Smith looked down at himself, frowning; he was still dressed in his normal brown suit and long brown coat. "What's wrong with this?" he protested.

"Oh, nothing, unless you want to freeze to death," Lex replied in amusement.

Smith sighed. "Oh, all right, I'll go put on one of the rubber suits." Shrugging, he turned and ambled away across the hangar, scarfing down the remainder of his pastry as he went and barely avoiding walking straight into one of the tracked vehicles they'd be using to cross the frozen bay.

"He's an odd one," Rousseau commented with a chuckle. Turning back to Lex, she smiled in a friendly manner. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

Lex returned the smile, before walking off to continue supervising the readiness efforts.

* * *

The small group of vehicles, carrying the personnel and equipment for the mission, trundled away from the motionless ship across the ice. Inside the lead vehicle, Lex, Sebastian and John Smith were sitting together. Lex noticed that Sebastian was holding something in his hand, rolling it between his fingers as he examined it. As a flash of light from the headlights of the vehicle behind them caught it, she recognized it as a vintage Pepsi-Cola bottle cap.

"What's with the bottle cap?" she inquired.

Sebastian turned to face her, snapped out of his inner thoughts. "Hmmm? Oh, this?" He grinned in amusement, holding it up. "It's a valuable archaeological find," he explained.

John Smith glanced over curiously. "You know, you'd be surprised," he murmured. "That thing might be quite the find someday." He grinned wryly. "You know, in a few thousand years."

Sebastian and Lex both laughed, before refocusing on the looming mass of the island ahead.

As the vehicle continued to move, Sebastian looked out the window, and up at the bright silver glow of the full moon. "When I was a kid growing up in Italy," he reflected, "do you know what they'd call a moon that big?" He smiled enthusiastically. " _La Luna del Cacciatore._ "

"And what does that mean?" Lex asked.

Sebastian grinned, looking back at her. "Hunter's Moon."

Seated behind them, the Doctor leaned back in his seat and looked out the window. "Hunter's Moon," he repeated softly to himself.

* * *

The vehicles came to a stop at the top of a high ridge. Quinn, the head of the drilling team, promptly began hollering commands at his men, instructing them to take care with the vehicles' cargo. One man fired a flare, which blossomed into a brilliant light, illuminating the valley below.

The scene that greeted them was breathtaking. An entire abandoned town sprawled beneath them, wooden buildings that had been beaten down by the Antarctic weather filling the valley as if sheltering from the punishing katabatic winds that swept across the icy wilderness.

"It's an abandoned whaling station," Lex explained, stepping up next to Weyland. "According to your satellite imagery, Mr. Weyland, the pyramid is located directly beneath it."

Behind them, the Doctor raised a pair of binoculars that he'd brought with him to his eyes, scanning the valley. He found nothing, but that didn't ease his sense of nervousness. He hadn't forgotten that it was an alien homing beacon that had brought him here to begin with, and the beacon was obviously coming from that pyramid. It wasn't that he felt he couldn't handle whatever it was, but on the off chance that it was dangerous, he would rather not place the other members of this expedition in danger.

He sighed. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice in the matter at the moment, so the best he could hope for was that there wasn't anything too dangerous down there.

Groaning, he clapped a hand to his forehead. _Now, why would I say that? Am I_ trying _to get us all killed?_

* * *

"Spread out!" Maxwell Stafford shouted to the expedition members as he strode through the bustling activity. "We'll use this place as a base camp." He turned to Quinn. "Mr. Quinn, begin drilling operations as soon as you can."

"I'm on it," Quinn replied, hurrying off.

Lex, Sebastian and the Doctor wandered through the village, using flares to light their way.

"What are these?" Sebastian asked, examining rows of large, curved white objects protruding from the ice.

"Whale bones," Lex explained. "This station was abandoned back in 1904. Everyone just disappeared overnight; it was a big mystery back then." She fired off another flare, illuminating the surrounding area again, and frowned. "Hang on, where's Miller?" Turning, she headed off, calling back, "You two stick together; I'll go find him. Be right back!"

The Doctor led the way through another partially collapsed structure, only to pause as something tingled his senses. "What is that?" he muttered, turning slowly in a circle. "Something, something… Ah!" Realization dawned, and he tilted his head back, inhaling deeply. "Gotcha," he exclaimed.

Sebastian, who had no idea what was going on, was nonplussed. "Uh… I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" he asked.

The Doctor turned back to face him. "Smoke," he replied. "It's faint, but I smell it. Something's been burning around here, recently." Without saying anything more, he rushed off through the town, yelling "Come on!" over his shoulder.

"Ah, damn it! Wait!" Sebastian followed quickly behind him, only to skid to a halt as he rounded the corner of another building, staring wide-eyed at what the Doctor had discovered.

"What the hell…?" he breathed.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, now _that_ is spectacular!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Directly in front of them, carved into the side of an ice cliff, was a massive, circular hole, at least ten feet across. They could see a few feet into it, but most of it was lost in darkness.

"Hey!" Sebastian yelled, jumping up and waving his arms to signal to the others nearby. "Over here!"

* * *

"It's drilled at a perfect thirty-degree angle," Quinn reported, checking his thermal imaging equipment. He and the others were all gathered around the mysterious tunnel that had been carved through the ice. So far, it defied explanation; the walls were smooth, covered with small ridges. Quinn had tried lighting a flare and tossing it into the tunnel, but the flare had slid so far down the tunnel that it had disappeared completely from view, giving them some idea of just how long it was.

"How far down does it go?" Lex asked.

"All the way to the pyramid," Weyland replied. He brought up a thermal satellite image of the area; on it, as well as the dull gray outlines of the whaling village and the mass of red squares that marked the position of the pyramid, a narrow orange line was now visible, stretching from the village straight to the pyramid. "And the same time, yesterday?" He tapped a key, bringing up an identical image, with one big difference: the orange line was missing. "Nothing."

"How was it done?" Miller inquired. Lex had found him exploring one of the abandoned buildings shortly before Sebastian had called them over.

Quinn peered into the tunnel. "Thermal equipment of some kind," he replied.

Weyland frowned. "Like yours?"

"More advanced," Quinn admitted. "Incredibly powerful." Turning, he shone his flashlight upwards, illuminating one of the buildings above and behind them; a perfectly smooth, semicircular portion of the building's roof was gone, the edges charred, directly in line with the hole in the ice. This was the source of the smell of smoke that the Doctor had picked up. "I've never seen anything like it." He turned back to Weyland, a determined expression on his face. "I'm telling you, there's no team and no machine in the world that can cut to this depth in twenty-four hours."

The Doctor felt his feeling of unease rise sharply. "Any chance the tunnel might have been cut from below?" he inquired. "You know, from the pyramid?"

Quinn looked over at him in disbelief. "No, not a chance," he replied after a moment. "Putting aside the fact that the machine would have to have been down there already – which is impossible – the ridges in the ice are angled downwards. There's no question: this tunnel was cut from above."

"Yeah, thought so," the Doctor replied. "Just figured I'd ask, that's all." He looked nervously up at the sky. _Which means someone else is replying to that homing beacon_ , he thought to himself.

"Well, the only way we're going to know for sure who did this," Weyland ended the discussion, "is to get down there and find out."

* * *

 _Aboard the_ Ne'dtesei

_Five hundred miles above Bouvetøya Island_

Unbeknownst to anyone on the ground, the entrance to the tunnel, as well as the humans and the surrounding village, were also being broadcast as a holographic image aboard the spaceship high above.

Nihkuo'te and his fellow students examined the holographic layout of the structure, as well as the aboveground village, carefully. The oomans on the surface were numerous and armed, and it was likely that not all of them would descend the shaft to the ritual Hunting ground below. These oomans, as Vk'leita had explained, had completely forgotten the ritual relationships that the yautja had once held with their primitive ancestors. Now, the oomans were strong enough to be a danger to the yautja in their own right, rather than just being useful as hosts for the Hard Meat.

Nihkuo'te clattered his mandibles thoughtfully. It seemed likely that the students would have to Hunt the oomans after all, which was typically forbidden to unBlooded. But, since they were on their first real Hunt, and because none of the oomans could be permitted to leave the Hunting ground alive so their world at large would never know of the hunters' presence, the oomans on the surface would have to die first, before the students could descend and begin the real hunt.

Fortunately, the students had been well-prepared; they had each been issued electronic recording devices and camouflaging shiftsuits that could be incorporated into their armor, enabling them to disguise themselves perfectly from the oomans' limited senses, and to use their own babbling voices to lure them into traps and ambushes. This last trick should work on the Hard Meat too, although they _could_ see through the shiftsuits' disguises.

It was time. The students were ready.

"Time to begin," Nihkuo'te rumbled, leading the way into the armory.

As promised, their gear was ready. Three suits of gleaming battle armor, as well as a trio of demonic-looking metal facemasks, each one of a slightly different style. The walls were lined with a plethora of weapons, ranging from high-tech plasma cannons powerful enough to level buildings with one shot, to throwing discs edged with blades that could slice through cast iron like butter, to simple swords and spears made from metal far tougher than anything found on Earth.

Wordlessly, the students suited up, garbing themselves for battle. Each of them draped flexible metal netting, like a form of chain-mail, over their bare arms and torsos, before snapping their segmented body armor plates into place. They also attached bulky objects to their forearms that, when triggered, sprouted wicked-looking pairs of curved, razor-sharp blades. Nihkuo'te popped his right wrist forward, extending his double-bladed _ki'cti-pa_ with a metallic _snick!_ He touched the sharp edge of the blade to test it, and nodded, grunting in satisfaction and retracting the blades with a simple flex of his arm.

Next, each of the yautja attached a ridged metal backpack-like device connected to a plate of armor that covered their left shoulders, where a plasma cannon would normally be mounted. Then they donned their masks, which shielded their faces and allowed them to breathe normally even in conditions where the atmosphere did not agree with them. Finally, they secured miniature computers to each of their left wrists. Upon connection being made, there was a click as the armor fastened itself, and a hiss as the armor's joints sealed to become airtight, filling the armor with the same warm, humid air as the rest of the ship.

With their armor in place, the students collected their assortment of weapons: long, collapsible spears with serrated, arrow-like tips; curved, double-edged knives with ridged metal and ivory handles; folded throwing discs with long, curved, wickedly sharp blades. The yautja left the more advanced weaponry, like the plasma cannons, on their racks, taking only the less advanced weapons. Only Gkyaun, the most strategically-minded of the students, chose a more advanced weapon – a wrist-mounted net gun – although he counterbalanced it by also choosing a long, curved, handheld blade made from a diamond-hard, bony substance.

Nihkuo'te knew that the lack of advanced weapons was a test; the students' more advanced weapons, the plasma cannons that the yautja called burners, were waiting for them in the Hunting ground far below. When the students retrieved those weapons, the signal would be sent, the Hard Meat would awaken, and the Hunt would begin in earnest.

Nihkuo'te was the first to begin the ritual chant, which Ghardeh and Gkyaun quickly took up in turn. The chant was known as _Nan-deThan-gaun_ , or the Kiss of Midnight, and it symbolized the yautja's determination in the face of the impending Hunt. Oomans and Hard Meat would fall before them on this night, and they would return to the _Ne'dtesei_ as Blooded warriors, with all the respect and glory that that entailed.

Nihkuo'te roared out the chant, singing his people's ancestral song of battle and bloodshed.

Kill or die. He was ready.

The Hunt was about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go!
> 
> In case anybody's wondering, by the way: yes, these three Predators are the ones from the canon movie. Namely, Nihkuo'te is Scar, Gkyaun is Celtic, and Ghardeh is Chopper.
> 
> Next chapter, the team heads down to the pyramid, and the Predators prepare to enter the game. Stay tuned!


	3. Into the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The expedition descends beneath the ice to explore the pyramid, and the Predators begin their hunt.

"Come on!" Quinn hollered over the noise of gears whirring, as his men set to work preparing the shaft for the team's descent. "Guys, what's taking so long? There's a storm coming!"

Lex strolled through the chaos; she was followed by John Smith, who had been poking around Quinn's equipment until the roughneck had snapped at him and chased him off. Now his interest seemed to have shifted to Lex.

"So, you climbed Mount Everest _how many_ times?" he inquired as they walked, his eyes wide in wonder.

Chuckling in amusement, Lex started to answer as she opened the door of one of the tracked vehicles, only to stop short when she discovered Charles Weyland seated inside, taking deep breaths from an oxygen tank. Startled by the interruption, he flinched, coughing repeatedly, before securing the oxygen tank and replacing it inside his winter jacket.

"Are you all right?" Smith asked anxiously. He reached up as if to examine the billionaire, but Weyland brushed his hand aside.

"I'm fine, thank you, Dr. Smith," Weyland replied hoarsely, coughing again.

Lex sighed. "There's no room for sick men on this expedition, Mr. Weyland," she said, as gently as she could.

Weyland shook his head. "My doctors tell me the worst is behind me," he claimed.

She smiled faintly. "You're not a very good liar. Stay on the ship; we'll update you at the top of every hour."

Weyland paused. "You know," he murmured, "when you get sick, you think about your life and how you're going to be remembered." He smirked ironically. "You know what I realized will happen when I go? Ten percent fall in share prices, maybe twelve. That's it."

"I've heard this speech before," Lex spoke up. She smiled, a bittersweet expression. "My dad broke his leg seven hundred feet from the summit of Mount Rainier. He was like you: he wouldn't go back or let us stop." She chuckled. "When we got to the top, he opened a bottle of champagne. I had my first drink with my dad at fourteen thousand, four hundred feet." Then her smile faded. "On the way down, he developed a blood clot in his leg that traveled to his lung. He suffered for four hours, before dying twenty minutes from the base."

John Smith stared at Lex in silence, with a sympathetic expression on his face. Weyland, however, responded after a moment of quiet. "Do you think that's the last thing your dad remembered?" he asked. "The pain? Or drinking champagne with his daughter fourteen thousand feet in the air?" He locked eyes with her. "I need this."

* * *

The team made their way slowly and carefully down the slanted shaft, their lights shining into the darkness below them. Each member of the descent team – including Lex, Weyland, John Smith, Sebastian, Miller, Maxwell Stafford, Thomas, Verheiden, and Rousseau – were secured to a metal cable, all of which attached to the rig that Quinn had set up for them. The rig descended slowly after them, ensuring that all of them had enough slack for the cables to catch them if they slipped.

"Well, this is fun," John Smith observed, nearly slipping and grabbing tightly onto his cable to secure himself. He grinned over at Lex, who chuckled back at him before refocusing on what lay ahead. She had to stay focused; even the slightest mishap could spell disaster.

And, sure enough, that potential disaster was quick to occur.

As they continued down the shaft, having been descending for about half an hour, a sudden tug on their cables stopped them all short. A moment later, a vibrating series of _twangs_ echoed down the shaft as the rig suddenly stopped short and lurched, lashing the cables like bullwhips.

While most of the team members were able to brace themselves and withstand the jolt, Weyland was the unlucky one. His tether suddenly detached from his harness, causing him to lose his footing and fall, sliding helplessly down the shaft.

"Mr. Weyland!" Miller cried out in panic, too far away to reach him.

"Man down!" Maxwell Stafford yelled, alerting the others. Still, most of them weren't able to get out of the way or catch Weyland, and he slammed into their legs, knocking several people off their feet as he skidded headfirst down the shaft. John Smith lunged for Weyland, but missed by inches, the other man's arm just out of reach.

"Get him!" Adele Rousseau shouted. "Somebody get him!"

As the one farthest down the tunnel, Lex was the last person available to stop Weyland. Seeing him sliding rapidly towards her, she took careful aim, raised her ice pick, and slammed it down just as he passed her, piercing straight through the durable hood of his parka and into the ice. With a shout, Weyland was instantly yanked to a halt, spinning around and coming to rest on his back, facing back up the shaft. He looked up slowly, gasping and shivering, to see Lex standing over him, and nodded in thanks.

The Doctor, farther up the shaft, exhaled slowly in relief. "Well done there, Lex," he muttered to himself, with a smile.

* * *

On the surface, Quinn continued barking orders to his crew. "Move it! Now!" he hollered, struggling to be heard over the blasting katabatic winds.

As he turned, glancing around to see what else needed to be secured against the storm, the roughneck completely missed the enormous metal object that glided directly above him, silently cutting through the dense clouds. By the time he looked up, it was gone.

* * *

The _Ne'dtesei_ came in low and fast over Bouvetøya Island, concealed by the raging blizzard. As it passed the whaling station, a trio of thunderclaps heralded the launches of three large, torpedo-shaped pods from the port side of the vessel. As the ship veered off and disappeared, its cloaking mechanisms activating to render it invisible to any onlookers, the pods plummeted to the surface below, punching sizable impact craters into the ice.

As the snow kicked up by the impacts settled down, seams along the sides of the pods became visible, all three of them opening like flowers to reveal glowing green interiors.

Abruptly, a clawed hand reached out and grasped the edge of one of the pods. With a growl, a massive humanoid figure emerged.

Nihkuo'te stepped out of the pod, rising to his feet and climbing out of the crater. He was thankful for his body armor, which protected him from the searing cold; maintaining their own internal temperature was essential to enable the yautja to fight at peak efficiency, which was why they usually chose to Hunt in tropical climates.

On either side, Ghardeh and Gkyaun also emerged from their pods. The three students gathered together, using Nihkuo'te's pod as a windbreak to allow them to hear each other more easily.

"Suggestions?" Gkyaun inquired, tapping at the computer on his wrist. A holographic display of the ooman settlement became visible, courtesy of the _Ne'dtesei_ 's sensors. "By my estimate, most of the armed Soft Meat are still on the surface." He tilted his head. "The Leader ordered us to make sure none of them escaped."

"Right," Ghardeh agreed. "And the real Hunt can't start until the Hard Meat have been spawned."

Nihkuo'te chittered. "Not a problem. Look." He nodded to Gkyaun, who zoomed out on the display; it now showed the pyramid, far below the ice, as well as the ooman village. Clearly visible were the heat signatures of at least a dozen Soft Meat, which had almost reached the bottom of the shaft.

"The Hard Meat will have their hosts soon," Gkyaun realized. He glanced to Nihkuo'te. "We should get down there quickly; the timing must be right. We have to get the burners before the Soft Meat are infected."

"And what about the _pyode amedha_ on the surface?" Ghardeh asked, deferring to the two more experienced students.

Nihkuo'te nodded. "We will kill the oomans on the surface first, then follow the hosts down to the Hunting ground. By the time we've reached the burners, the Hard Meat eggs should be ready for the next phase." He waved his arm. "Let's move. _Ki'cte!_ "

With eager snarls of assent, Ghardeh and Gkyaun followed him, all three yautja jogging easily across the ice towards the distant village.

* * *

_Two thousand feet below the whaling station…_

"I don't understand it," Weyland muttered, looking around the ice cave that was illuminated by the red glow of his handheld flare. "No equipment. No sign of another team."

"Well, that tunnel didn't dig itself," Lex replied.

The rest of the team set up lights around the area. "Connors, get those lights working," Stafford ordered.

"Right, boss." Making the last connections, Connors grinned. "We have power!" he announced, flipping a switch. The banks of floodlights blazed on, illuminating the cavern. Everyone else flinched away from the dazzling glow…

…and were left dumbstruck by what the lights revealed.

"Now, _that_ is… definitely impressive," the Doctor remarked under his breath.

Sure enough, there it was, looming before them. A gigantic stone pyramid, nearly filling the immense cavern that housed it.

Lex fired a flare from her pistol, which ignited high above the pyramid, giving them a better sense of its structure and design. Sure enough, the Doctor immediately recognized designs from multiple ancient human cultures.

"Interesting…" he murmured, tapping his chin contemplatively.

"Congratulations, Mr. Weyland," Lex said. "Looks like you'll be leaving your mark after all."

Weyland looked awestruck. "Thank you," he rasped. "Thank you… thank you all for this." He exchanged a glance with Max Stafford. "Let's make history."

* * *

The team made their way up the ceremonial steps of the pyramid, towards the main entrance. About halfway up the steps, platforms on both sides of the walkway boasted a pair of twenty-foot-tall stone statues, depicting a pair of armored, helmeted warriors kneeling, holding spears in their hands. The Doctor frowned as he passed them, shining his light up at one of the towering figures; the helmet it wore seemed familiar to him, but for the life of him he couldn't remember from where. Shrugging and putting it out of his mind, he continued upwards.

As the group finally reached the entrance and walked into a cavernous hall, their flashlights flicked across the wall, picking out a thousand stone carvings. Lex raised an eyebrow as she found one that looked especially strange: a drawing of a strange creature, looking something like a cross between a lizard and a scorpion, rolled into a ball with its spiked tail curled up in front of its face.

The team continued moving farther into the structure. As they did, though, Connors, one of the last in line, stepped on a floor tile that shifted slightly under his foot. Not noticing, he carried on, just before the tile began to sink into the floor behind him, an almost undetectable trigger having been activated.

* * *

Far below the pyramid, in a huge room, a large, almost organic-looking machine hung attached to the stone ceiling. A series of barbed, razor-sharp metal chains extended downwards from it, vanishing through a large slit in the floor below.

Suddenly, though, a whirring, rumbling noise echoed through the room, as something began to move within the machine. The floor below abruptly split apart, the two halves beginning to move away from each other, the slit in the floor widening. Simultaneously, the chains clanked, pulled taut, and began to retract, hauling a huge, dark object upwards out of the frigid white mists below.

First to emerge was a huge, curved bony crest, resembling some kind of coral. The hard, hornlike projections emerging from it were pierced through by barbed metal hooks at the ends of some of the chains. An eyeless, elongated head extended outward below the crest, jaws filled with vicious, dagger-like teeth now crusted over with frost and frozen in a silent scream.

As the chains continued to reel in, more and more of the creature became visible. The massive head was connected to a long, surprisingly graceful neck, corded with chitinous tubes and protected by a hard shell. The creature's huge, muscular torso tapered down to a slim, almost skeletal waist and pelvis, attached to a pair of powerful hind legs. It also had four arms, two large ones where a human's might be and two smaller ones attached to the chest, all of which were restrained by heavy metal clamps.

Finally, a long, spiked tail extended out behind the creature, above a huge, bloated, nearly translucent projection that extended from beneath the tail: the monster's egg sack. The tail and egg sack, however, were secured by a large mechanical apparatus, with curving metal arms that wound around the tail and egg sack, holding them firmly in place, as well as dozens of tubes and wires that extended from the machine and pierced the egg sack in numerous places, interfacing with the creature's biological systems.

Every one of the creature's appendages was thoroughly restrained by the chains, ensuring that it could not escape from this confinement. As the chains fully retracted, the creature's arms were pulled outwards so that its head was lifted up, arms spread wide as it hung suspended above the swirling vapors.

For a long moment, the alien queen hung motionless above the pool, like a dragon in flight. Icicles hung from her gaping jaws, dimly gleaming in the low light. Remaining in her artificial hibernation, she was silent and still.

That is, until crackling arcs of electricity danced from the huge machine tethered to her, snaking along the massive body and providing a jolt that stirred the dormant monster from its slumber.

With a violent shudder, the queen awakened, the ice that coated her exoskeleton shattering and falling away as she flexed her limbs. Her hands clenched, straining against her restraints. Her jaws opened, revealing multiple rows of vicious fangs, and she let out a shriek that echoed throughout the immense chamber.

* * *

Several hundred feet above that chamber, the human expedition continued to make their way deeper into the heart of the massive pyramid.

As he walked down the hall, Sebastian de Rosa found his attention drawn to a series of carvings covering one wall. "Thomas," he called, brushing aside a concealing veil of cobwebs and examining the symbols.

Thomas, Lex, Weyland and the Doctor all made their way over, joining Sebastian in his inspection. Thomas stepped up next to his mentor. "What is it?" he asked. "I recognize the Egyptian, but…"

"Hang on, Egyptian?" The Doctor frowned, leaning in and brushing some more cobwebs aside. "But that one there's definitely Aztec: I've seen stuff like that in their temples." He smiled for a moment. "Strange people, the Aztecs. Don't exactly agree with their whole 'human sacrifice' thing, but, well…" He shrugged.

"The second symbol is Aztec, yes," Sebastian confirmed, glancing strangely at the Doctor. "Pre-Conquest era." He grinned. "And the third is Cambodian."

"Then you were right," Weyland murmured thoughtfully. "This pyramid contains all three cultures."

Sebastian nodded. "That's what it looks like."

The Doctor frowned to himself. In all his long life, he couldn't recall encountering anything like this before, but this whole situation was beginning to sound vaguely familiar. He just couldn't figure out what it reminded him of.

A moment later, he was snapped out of his reverie, as Thomas began translating the symbols marked on the wall. "You may… choose… to enter," he recited. " 'Those who choose may enter.' "

Sebastian smirked. "Who taught you to translate?" he remarked sarcastically.

"Funny," Thomas quipped back, "he looked a lot like _you_."

Sebastian chuckled, but then grew serious again. "Well," he declared, "it's not _choose_. It's _chosen_." He nodded. " 'Only the chosen ones may enter.' "

For a moment, the Doctor swore he felt an ominous chill run down his back.

Then the moment passed, and Sebastian turned away, the rest of the group following his lead. The Doctor trailed just behind Lex and Weyland, glancing around nervously and fidgeting with the sonic screwdriver tucked into his pocket.

* * *

_On the surface…_

Quinn was examining the drilling rig to make sure everything was in order, when a scream cut through the storm. He whirled, eyes wide.

Inside a nearby building that was being used as a makeshift mess hall, three other men, private security hired by Weyland to protect the expedition, also froze in place, having heard the noise.

A moment later, the door to the outside slammed open, as a massive, shimmering figure, only visible as a distortion in the air, stepped inside. All three men jumped to their feet, drawing their guns; the laser sights from the pistols were warped as they passed through the patch of shimmering air.

They hesitated a second too long. A vicious blow sent one of them flying across the room like a rag doll, smashing through a shelf and crumpling to the floor.

The second man raised his gun, an instant before a pair of curved blades punched through his chest from behind. He was hoisted off his feet, gurgling as he choked on his own blood, and then flung away, knocking over another shelf.

The third man, to his credit, reacted quickly. He immediately raised the semiautomatic he was holding and opened fire, bullets flying everywhere and punching holes into the shelves and the far wall. A moment later, an unseen object struck him with a resounding _thwack!_ , hurling him backwards into the far wall. Instead of falling to the floor, he inexplicably hung there in midair, his feet suspended off the floor. A moment later, however, the reason for this became clear, as a metal spear became visible with a crackle of electricity, having punched through his chest and into the wall behind him. He struggled for a moment, then went limp and slumped forward, dead.

A staccato series of clicks echoed through the room, the hunter proclaiming its kills.

* * *

Quinn reached the mess hall to see the door open. He stepped into the doorway, and froze in horror as he saw one of the men who'd been inside being hoisted into the air feetfirst, using a wire that had been tied around his ankles.

He turned away from the corpse, just in time to see a massive, shimmering figure pivoting to face him; twin blades projected from the thing's right wrist, with blood still dripping from them onto the floor.

Quinn did the smart thing: he immediately scrambled back outside, grabbed the door, and heaved it shut. It was that move that saved his life, as a spear burst through the solid door in the next instant, slicing across his upper arm and opening a deep cut, before embedding itself in the cabin wall behind him. Letting out an involuntary scream of pain, he turned and ran.

* * *

From the top of a nearby building, a pair of cold, reptilian eyes gazed through the visor of a mask, watching as Quinn ran through the whaling station, away from the mess hall.

* * *

Stumbling through the snow, Quinn tripped and fell as he climbed up onto the platform next to the tunnel that ran down to the pyramid. Turning, he promptly recoiled, letting out a strangled gasp of shock. Before him were the bodies of at least four of his men, hanging by their feet from the wires overhead. All four were dead.

Hearing a sound from behind him, the roughneck rolled over and clambered to his feet, grabbing a fallen pistol that lay nearby. Spotting the patch of shimmering air atop the building in front of him, like a concentrated heat haze, he immediately raised the gun and fired.

The first two bullets missed; the third struck home, drawing a burst of sparks from the thing's left shoulder. Suddenly, with crackling arcs of electricity as its camouflage deactivated, a massive creature became visible, standing proudly on the roof.

The creature was at least seven feet tall, towering over Quinn. It wore a full-body suit of what looked like armor, and a demonic metal mask covered its face. Its shoulder-length hair was pleated into dreadlocks.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Then the thing let out a thunderous roar, and leapt down at him.

* * *

Gkyaun landed lightly in front of the ooman, glaring down at it through his mask. While he could easily have simply killed it with a stab or slash of his bladed weapons, he was curious to see whether oomans were capable of posing a challenge in hand-to-hand combat, as opposed to simply relying on their burners.

It immediately became apparent that this was not the case. The ooman made a clumsy swing with one arm, which he caught easily; he then snapped the bone in its arm with a simple twist of his hand, before striking it in the chest and sending it crashing backwards through a small wooden structure.

* * *

Quinn screamed in pain as he hit the ground, clutching at his broken arm. Grabbing a wooden board as the creature heaved the rig out of the way, he turned and swung it with all of his strength.

The frozen wood shattered against the creature's armor, and it proceeded to kick Quinn in the side. The impact broke several of his ribs, and the force behind it launched him off the platform and into the gaping maw of the tunnel. He went spinning into the pit and down the seemingly endless tunnel, sliding helplessly down towards the cave far below.

As he fell, Quinn thought quickly. Grabbing at his belt with his good arm, he seized his ice pickaxe. Withdrawing it from his belt, he got a good grip on it and swung. The blade bit into the ice, showering him with bits of frost, but he still did not slow down.

* * *

As Gkyaun stepped up to the mouth of the tunnel, two more shimmering shapes emerged from the storm. With a blur of electric sparks, they resolved themselves into the familiar forms of Nihkuo'te and Ghardeh.

The three students regrouped at the entrance of the shaft, congratulating each other on their successful kills. They had faced the deadly oomans and come away unscathed, with a dozen or so kills in total. Not bad, considering that their real Hunt hadn't even started yet.

"Status of the oomans?" Nihkuo'te inquired.

Gkyaun tapped at his wrist computer, bringing up a holographic projection of the pyramid. "They are approaching the sacrificial chamber now," he reported, examining the projection closely. A yellow dot deep within the pyramid marked the current position of the rest of the oomans, the ones who would become hosts for the Hard Meat.

Ghardeh chuckled with a trilling sound. "Who knows, perhaps they _do_ remember the customs," he suggested in amusement.

"It does not matter," Gkyaun replied flatly with his usual detachment. "All that matters is that they will do their part, willingly or not. We'll have Hard Meat to hunt soon enough."

"Indeed," Nihkuo'te rumbled. He nodded to the pit. "Let's get moving. The sooner we get those burners, the sooner the real Hunt can begin."

The other two growled and nodded in assent.

* * *

_Inside the pyramid…_

After about half an hour of exploring the structure, the team entered a large, circular chamber. Their lights illuminated the room, revealing seven large stone slabs arranged in a semicircle. On each slab lay a perfectly preserved human skeleton.

"What is all this?" Weyland asked, glancing around in curiosity.

"This is the sacrificial chamber," Sebastian explained.

Thomas nodded. "Just like the Aztecs and the Egyptians, the people who built this pyramid believed in ritual sacrifice." He looked around the room. "This is where the chosen ones were offered to the gods."

The Doctor shone his light across the chamber. To his distaste, one wall was entirely lined with human remains; skulls, minus their lower jaws, each still connected to a nearly complete spine. That image in particular struck a chord with him. "Oh, come on, I _know_ this!" he muttered to himself. "Something old, something…"

"You all right?" a voice interrupted his internal monologue. He started, looking over to see Lex standing beside him.

"Hmm?" The Doctor blinked. "Oh, yes, sorry! Yeah, I'm fine. Just…" He glanced around. "Something does _not_ feel right about this place."

Lex raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but her attention was diverted by Sebastian, who was examining a body on one of the altars. "Those that were chosen would lie here," he realized. "They weren't bound or tied in any way. They went to die willingly, men and women. It was considered an honor."

"Lucky them," Lex remarked sardonically. Sebastian chuckled softly, but his amusement evaporated as he gazed down at the body on the slab.

Thomas looked down at the hieroglyphs ringing one of the slabs, translating them as he recorded them with his handheld video camera. "They… gave their lives," he translated. "So the hunt… could begin."

The Doctor, on the other side of the chamber, whipped around. "Sorry, did you just say _Hunt_?" he queried.

Thomas nodded. "Ah… yes, that's what it says."

The Doctor hurried over, dropping to one knee and examining the hieroglyphs himself. "Hmmm…" he murmured. "Oh, come on, _come on!_ Why can't I remember?" Jumping to his feet, he began pacing around the room, rubbing his temples as he strained his considerable intellect, trying to figure it out.

Thomas stared after him, confused, until Adele Rousseau's voice drew his attention. "What happened here?" she inquired, nodding to the corpse on the altar he'd been examining. There was a large hole in the corpse's torso, just below the rib cage.

"It was common in ritual sacrifice to take the heart of the victim," he explained.

Rousseau raised an eyebrow fractionally. "That's nice," she deadpanned, before looking back down at the corpse and frowning. "But that's not where your heart is. Besides, it looks like the bones are bent straight out." She looked up at him. "Something broke _out_ of this body."

* * *

Far below, the queen's body convulsed as she thrashed uselessly against her restraints, shrieking and snarling in a paroxysm of rage. The arcs of electricity continued to crackle over her body and the massive egg sack attached to her, long-dormant physical processes being brought back into action.

As the queen shrieked, the egg sack went to work. A long tube at the far end swelled, before depositing a fleshy, oval-shaped egg, about the size of a football, onto a conveyor belt that ran directly below. The belt activated as the first egg was laid, slowly rolling it out of the room through a side hatch in the wall.

Another egg was laid, and another, the faint whirring of the conveyor belt drowned out by the screeches of the enraged monster that had been turned into nothing more than an assembly line by the yautja. The queen's only purpose now was to produce eggs, eggs that would, very soon, hatch into creatures that were known throughout the universe as the ultimate killing machines.

Which, of course, made them the ultimate challenge for a species that lived only to hunt.

* * *

In the sacrificial chamber, Lex was now thoroughly perplexed by John Smith's actions. First, he'd paced around the entire room about fifty times, muttering to himself. Next, he withdrew some kind of silver tool, something like a pen, from his pocket, and placed it against the wall, running it up and down over the stone blocks. As soon as he pressed a button on the side, it lit up with a blue light and promptly began producing a buzzing sound that echoed loudly through the cold air.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Sonic screwdriver," he replied absently, without looking at her.

She chuckled. "No, really, what is it?"

He looked up in surprise. "What? Oh, no, it actually is. Can also be used for carbon dating, among, well… a lot of things, now that I think about it. Apologies for the noise, but, you know, it's _sonic_ ; can't really be helped." He pulled it away from the wall, and the noise stopped as he examined it. "Hmmm… Well, according to this, this place has been here for…" His eyes widened. "Over ten thousand years? Can't be…"

"What?" Sebastian asked in disbelief. "That's impossible."

"Oh, trust me, the impossible is never _quite_ as impossible as people think," Smith said cheerfully. He frowned. "Although, I will admit, this doesn't make any sense. And I _still_ can't figure out what's so familiar about this!"

Before anyone could ask him what the hell he meant by that, they were distracted by Weyland. "What've you found, Max?" he asked, drawing their attention to the center of the room.

"It's a shaft to another level," Maxwell Stafford replied, kneeling over what seemed like a grate, set into a stone carving in the center of the room. Cracking a glowstick, he shook it until it began to glow brightly, and then dropped it into the hole in the floor. It fell for about fifty feet or so, before striking the floor of the next level and coming to a halt. "Looks like there's another room down there."

* * *

Quinn lay on the floor of the ice cave, just a few feet from the tunnel entrance. He'd finally reached the bottom, but had been knocked unconscious by the impact. Half-frozen and covered in frost, he lay motionless, slumped against the cave wall.

A noise, the crunching of ice under boots, roused him back to consciousness. Looking up, he saw two of the armored creatures striding towards him: the one that had attacked him on the surface, and a second one with longer, curved blades extending from its arms. The two of them approached him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for death. When nothing happened, however, he opened his eyes, and was surprised to see that the creatures were gone. Rolling over, he saw them walking away from him, making their way towards the pyramid in the larger cave beyond.

Seemingly having been ignored, Quinn let out a sigh of relief. As he rolled back over, however, his eyes opened wide in horror. A third creature stood over him, blades drawn. Before the roughneck could even scream, the blades struck down.

Blood splattered the ice.

* * *

With a grunt of satisfaction, Nihkuo'te shook the blood of the latest ooman off his blades, and then turned to rejoin the others. The Hunt waited for no one, and he had little time to waste.

The three students continued onwards towards the pyramid, leaving the lifeless body of Quinn behind them.

* * *

"Let's move to that lower room, Max," Weyland ordered.

"We're moving on, everyone!" Stafford called out, rallying the team. His gaze sought out Lex. "Miss Woods?"

Nodding, she took the lead, Weyland following her. John Smith joined the group next, muttering to himself as he continued scanning the walls with his strange, buzzing device.

As Sebastian, Thomas and Rousseau reached him, though, Stafford shook his head. "You," he ordered Thomas, "stay here. Rousseau, stay with him. Keep a team with you. Catalogue everything." He nodded to Sebastian, indicating where the others had gone. "Professor?"

Sebastian and Thomas exchanged a glance, before Sebastian shrugged and headed off after Lex and the others. Max and several other men, including Miller, Verheiden, and Connors, followed them, leaving Thomas and Rousseau in the chamber with the rest of the team.

* * *

After spending some time navigating the confusing passageways of the pyramid, the group who'd gone down to the next level arrived at their destination. It was obvious that they'd found the right place, as the glowstick that Stafford had dropped from the sacrificial chamber was lying in the center of the room, on an elevated stone dais below a large, circular hole in the ceiling.

"This should be directly below the sacrificial chamber," Lex stated, checking her compass. She walked up the steps onto the dais, focusing on a large stone box, about the size of a couch. "Sebastian?"

Sebastian approached the altar. "It's a sarcophagus," he explained, blowing away the ice crystals that had gathered over the hieroglyphs carved into its surface. "It says 'the Long Count,'" he translated. "This is the Aztec calendar. And this…" He examined a strange, wheel-like carving, almost like a dial, which actually moved when he touched it, pivoting. "It's like some kind of combination lock." He shone his flashlight left, then right, showing that there were actually three circular carvings. "Days… months… years."

"Fascinating," the Doctor murmured, stepping up next to them and looking at the carvings.

"It's set for…" Sebastian checked the dials, then looked back up at them in surprise. "1904."

Lex's eyes widened. "Someone opened this a hundred years ago?"

"October tenth, 1904, to be exact," the Doctor muttered, glancing at the dials. He frowned, activating his sonic screwdriver and running it over the sarcophagus. "That's weird," he muttered. "I'm not getting any readings; it's like it's deadlocked or something." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Someone doesn't want anyone getting in there unless they've got the proper combination."

Sebastian considered for a moment. "What's today's date?"

"October…" Lex trailed off, looking at the Doctor. "October tenth, 2004."

"Exactly one hundred years ago…" the Doctor breathed, looking at the dials. Realization clicked, and he swung back around to Lex. "Hang on, what was it you said about that whaling station up there? All the people disappeared… when exactly was that?"

Lex frowned, and then her eyes widened. "1904," she answered. "The entire station was suddenly abandoned: nobody knows exactly what happened."

The Doctor's eyes darkened with foreboding. "I'm getting the feeling that all of this wasn't an accident," he muttered.

Sebastian, meanwhile, was focused on the stone dials. "Ten… ten… 2004," he said to himself, adjusting the dial on the left.

"You sure this is going to work?" Weyland asked him.

"I don't know." Sebastian turned the second dial, the one on the right. Next, he turned the third one, in the middle –

And, with a loud _click_ , a rumbling of stone, and a hiss of escaping air, the lower section of the sarcophagus suddenly slid outward, almost like a drawer, and came to a stop, a cloud of steam escaping from the interior.

"Back up!" Lex cried. The team scrambled back, staring wide-eyed at the now-open sarcophagus.

After a long moment, Sebastian and the Doctor stepped forward slowly. They reached the edge, their flashlights shining down into the sarcophagus's interior.

The Doctor's eyes widened, a lump forming in his throat. _Oh, I hate being right all the time,_ he thought.

"Oh, my god," Sebastian whispered. He looked back at the others. "Take a look at this."

The others walked forward, looking into the open sarcophagus. Their reactions were the same.

Lying inside the sarcophagus, balanced in metal frames, were three futuristic-looking metal artifacts that, even to the untrained eye, looked a lot like massive guns.

* * *

"Any idea what these are?" Miller asked Sebastian. He was bent over the open sarcophagus, examining one of the devices at close range.

"No," Sebastian admitted. "You?"

Miller shook his head. "No."

"It's a good thing we brought the experts," Max Stafford snarked.

"Yeah, it is a good thing," Miller shot back. "Because this is like finding Moses's DVD collection."

Brushing aside an irritated Connors, the Doctor activated his sonic screwdriver and ran it over the devices, examining it with a flick of his wrist. "Let's see… Design suggests some kind of advanced weaponry. Not projectile-based, probably uses some kind of laser or plasma energy. Earth-based composite reading indicates only two chemicals on record: tilanium and cadmium 240."

Sebastian frowned, perplexed. "Never heard of them."

"I have, actually," Miller spoke up. "They're found in meteorites."

"Plus, ergonomics are all wrong for human design. I mean, they're clearly not meant for humans to use: they're way too big. A human would need to mount one of those things on something to use it properly, and I'm pretty sure those are handheld guns." The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Which brings us to one conclusion: whatever those things were, they weren't made here. "

Weyland turned to him, confused. "And by 'here', you mean…"

"Oh, I mean Earth." The Doctor grinned. "Oh, right! I just realized, I completely forgot to properly introduce myself." He smiled, shaking Weyland's hand. "Hello. I'm the Doctor. Lovely to meet you, Mr. Weyland."

Lex stared at him for a moment. "Uh… Mr. Smith, no offense, but what the hell are you talking about?"

"Huh?" The Doctor turned. "Oh, right, forgot, I haven't actually explained anything yet. Well, my name's not _actually_ John Smith, if you must know: it's just the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Miller stared at him in confusion. "Doctor… who, exactly?"

Without actually answering the question, the Doctor continued, pacing back and forth. "Now, let's think. Ancient pyramid under the ice, fires up all of a sudden for no apparent reason; the heat bloom brought all of us here. When we got here, we found a giant shaft blasted through the ice, straight down to the pyramid – only there was no one down here yet. Which means whoever did that _wanted_ us to get here first. And now we _are_ down here, all of us inside this great big pyramid under the ice, and what do we find? Weapons, which are clearly not designed for humans, so I don't think we were supposed to find these things. But we know _somebody_ was supposed to find them, otherwise there wouldn't be the whole big deal with the combination lock. Right? Makes sense?" He addressed Sebastian with this one, and the scientist nodded slowly.

"Right! So, what're we left to conclude?" The Doctor looked around the room. "We've all been led down here for some reason. And I feel like I should know why, but I don't. I can't figure it out. And that bothers me, because if I can't figure out why something feels bad, it's usually _really_ bad. And what was that bit upstairs about a _hunt_ , any–" He froze. "Hang on…" Turning, he hurried down off the dais and turned, examining the two large stone statues that stood on either side of it, appearing to represent armored, helmeted warriors carrying spears.

As the Doctor broke off his lecture, Charles Weyland turned away, coughing and taking several deep breaths from his oxygen tank.

"Weyland?" Lex asked anxiously, moving to his side.

Weyland waved it off, gasping for air. "Little too much excitement," he explained.

Lex thought for a moment, and then turned back to face the others, a serious expression on her face. "Okay, I'm not exactly sure what's going on down here, but we've been out long enough for today. We'll set up base camp tonight at the whaling station and get back at it first thing tomorrow morning."

"Well, you can go back to the base camp, Ms. Woods," Max Stafford replied, "but we're staying here."

Her expression was unmoved. "No."

Stafford looked at her, momentarily surprised.

"You wanted to leave without proper prep, we did. You wanted to be the first ones here, we are. You've claimed the find, it's yours." Her eyes narrowed. "Now, we move as a team, and we're done for today."

Stafford looked to Weyland, who nodded. "You heard her," the billionaire rasped.

* * *

The Doctor stepped forward, gazing more closely at one of the statues. At this size, its helmeted head seemed more familiar than ever, particularly the combination of the mask and the strange, shoulder-length dreadlocks extending from the back of its head.

He glanced at the left shoulder, which appeared to have some kind of socket built into the shoulder plate of the armor. Almost as if something was meant to be attached to it…

His eyes widened, as he looked back towards the sarcophagus, and the trio of futuristic alien blasters within it.

"Wait…" His voice was a whisper, his mind racing madly.

_Armored alien warriors, who've apparently been visiting this planet for at least ten thousand years. Spears. Scary-looking war helmets. Hair in dreadlocks. Shoulder-mounted plasma blasters. A cycle of humans going missing from this location, repeating every hundred years. Human skulls and spines removed whole, as trophies. And something about a_ _**hunt** _ _…_

The Doctor staggered as the realization of who'd built this pyramid, who must have triggered that homing beacon, hit him like a body blow. He backed away from the statues, his wide-eyed gaze flicking frantically from one to the other.

How could he have missed it?! Now that he'd realized it, the memories came rushing back: screaming, explosions, gunfire, the sounds of blades slicing into human flesh, and the bestial roar of an otherworldly monster with an insatiable hunger for blood and glory. A species he'd hoped never to see again.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no, no!"

Turning, he dashed back up to the sarcophagus, grabbing Weyland and Lex and pulling them around to face him. "I've figured it out," he explained, his words coming in a rush. "I know why this place became visible, I know who built it, and I know why those weapons are here. And I am sorry, I am _so sorry_ I didn't figure it out sooner, but what matters right now is that we are all in terrible danger." He stared intensely at them both, his gaze burning into theirs. "We have to get out of here. _Now_."

Weyland and Lex both seemed confused, but, after a moment, the billionaire nodded. "Very well… Doctor." He turned back to the others. "Pack up your gear: we're heading back to the surface."

"What do you want to do with these, Mr. Weyland?" Stafford asked, indicating the alien weapons.

"Take them," Weyland replied. "We'll run further tests on the surface."

Stafford nodded; Connors and Verheiden pulled two of the blasters out of the sarcophagus with metallic _click_ s. Stafford himself took hold of the third one.

"No! No! Don't touch them!" Sebastian cried, just as the Doctor realized what was going on and yelled " _No!_ ", his eyes wide in panic.

It was too late; Stafford yanked the last blaster out of the sarcophagus. Immediately, there was a third _click_ , followed by a loud _ka-chunk_ , and the pointed metal arcs that the blasters had been resting on folded upwards, locking together.

Then there was a thunderous rumbling, and the room around them began to shift. Several stone panels in the walls suddenly slid aside or lifted up to reveal new exits from the chamber: at the same time, huge stone slabs descended from the ceiling, blocking off the way they'd come from.

"Look out!" Lex cried.

"The doors!" Sebastian exclaimed, but it was too late. There was nothing they could do.

In the sacrificial chamber above, Thomas, Adele Rousseau, and four others who'd stayed behind to catalogue the room were trapped when more massive stone slabs either dropped from the ceiling or rose from the floor, sealing off all the exits from the room.

* * *

Just as the three yautja arrived at the entrance to the pyramid, a blaring alarm echoed from all three of their wrist computers.

"What is that?" Ghardeh exclaimed.

Nihkuo'te watched as Gkyaun brought up the holographic display of the pyramid. Immediately, his eyes widened in horror. While there were six oomans in the sacrificial chamber, as planned, there were another nine of the Soft Meat in the chamber below it: the chamber where their burners were waiting for them.

And, if this readout was to be believed, the oomans had just removed the burners from the sarcophagus.

Nihkuo'te roared in fury, his fists clenching. The Soft Meat had _stolen_ their weapons! Not only did this mean that the pyramid had activated ahead of schedule – the Hunt was not meant to begin until the students had obtained their burners, so that they would have an easier fight against the Hard Meat – but they would have to contend with armed oomans as well as the drones that would now be active within hours.

There was only one course of action to be taken: the students would have to hunt down the oomans, kill them, and recover the burners, before the _kainde amedha_ were ready. The students would be outnumbered at least two to one once the drones reached maturity, something that would happen very quickly. If they had burners, it would be easy to destroy that many Hard Meat, given their training. But without burners, and outnumbered two to one… he did not fancy their odds in that situation. It was said that Vk'leita, the Leader of the _Ne'dtesei_ , could easily kill Hard Meat drones with just talons and blade, but he was an experienced warrior: no students were ever expected to replicate such a feat, although they would certainly be congratulated for it.

"We must find the _pyode amedha_ and get the burners back, before the Hard Meat are fully grown." Gkyaun looked to Nihkuo'te. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Nihkuo'te growled back. "The Soft Meat will pay for this in blood. But we must be quick; we need those burners before we face the _kainde amedha_ , or we may be the ones who die today." He raised an arm. "With me!"

Gkyaun and Ghardeh snarled in assent, and the students raced into the pyramid. As they ran, they activated their shiftsuits, phasing out of view and becoming nothing more than shimmering patches of air as they vanished into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into it! Not *too* much action in this one, but the next one should be where things start getting crazy.
> 
> So, in case you haven't figured it out from this chapter: yes, in my headcanon for this story, the Doctor has encountered both the Aliens and the Predators before, but he didn't realize that the Predators were the ones behind this until just now, since the last time he encountered them was under very different circumstances. And yes, I will explain what those "other circumstances" were, later on in the story.
> 
> Next chapter, things inside the pyramid go from bad to worse, and the xenomorphs enter the mix as well… stay tuned!


End file.
